I imagine the world like a film. Not a film with the same parameters and structure as your favorite blockbuster, but a film with bits and pieces, scattered like photographs upon a kitchen floor. I imagine the many little pieces of life. I watch them flashing by with eyes wide open.

I imagine the bubbles within my lava lamp, dancing and floating. They remind me of late nights dancing with friends, where the world feels as if it has slowed down for a while. Time freezes and suddenly we’re spinning each other in slow motion.

I imagine laughter. My cousin, as she tosses up boxes of Peanut Butter Crunch and oversized bouncy balls in Walgreens, as we take pictures and laugh, “clean up on aisle 3.” I imagine my sister as we attempt to sled down our snowy neighborhood hill with garbage can lids and socks as mittens.

I imagine early afternoon picnics, filled with our newest concoctions, as I toss my shoes off and begin to play made up songs on my ukulele. I imagine our smiles and laughter as we’d people watch the families and friends around us.

I imagine my grandfather’s smile, joking around on the beach and scaring us from behind. I imagine the rush of the cold, salt water as he’d push us to dive into the ocean. I can feel the water. It overcomes my senses and moves my body, as I float underneath the warm sun.

I imagine buses passing, fast cars honking, and old friends catching up, as I reminisce and dream of my days spent in New York. I imagine big Italian dinners with my grandparents, laughing as they’d refer to me as their “little meatball.”

I imagine being held in the arms of a friend, while tears drip from my worn and tired eyes, after a heartbreak. I imagine the closeness and warmth of their hugs, mending me.

I imagine the sun setting as I sit underneath the Florence sky and listen to wine glasses clink, while lovers and friends soak in the painting the sky has become. Just like Michelangelo, I’d think.

I imagine unbearably hot train rides in Europe and freezing "game drives" on African mornings. We’d bundle up under piles of blankets and coats, as we’d come across the untouched lands and animals. I imagine the quietness and simpleness of those mornings.

I imagine it all. Every “fall out of my chair” laugh, every tear lost, and every feeling. Each has a scene within my messy life. I challenge everyone to think back. Let your mind rewind. Allow for these genuine moments to be more than just a passing memory.

This world is filled with so many hidden beauties. Each cotton candy sunset, each dance, each laugh, and each clip that makes your life yours, means so much more. I imagine the world as a film. Make your life your favorite piece of art.